Whispers of the Enflamed Clouds
by Angelus-Aurelle
Summary: It has been fifteen months since Bella left Edward without a word. While Edward is struggling to find his lost heart, Bella hides. She's resolved. She'll love him from afar... He deserves much better. Rated M for dark themes/angst/language/lemons.


DISCLAIMER- I do not own TWILIGHT or anything affiliated with it. Though, I own _this_ plot**.**

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**PROLOGUE**

BPOV

I figured that my palms were slick. My fingers felt cold against the skin of my neck. My mind was working at the slowest pace while my heart was racing. I couldn't pull the reins on my erratic _non_-breathing.

_This couldn't be happening._

I was struggling to breathe. A strong sense of déjà vu washed over me.

_No! No! No! _

Just like… before. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. I felt sharp stinging in my eyes. Tears of panic blurred my vision. Frantically, I rubbed my eyes. I couldn't hear anything beyond my loud heartbeats and hollow gasps for breath. I struggled more. My eyes weren't seeing anything. They were searching but they couldn't see. No visual reassurance. I opened my mouth and sucked in a lungful of air. A sharp pain shot through my chest, but it was brief. My hand pressed against my chest. I felt the moisture between the skin of my palm and my chest. I was sweating. The panic didn't subside completely. It was dark. I drew another breath from my nose. I panicked.

_I couldn't breathe!_

I gaped and drew in frantic mouthfuls of air. The strange whooshing noises, the crazy staccato of my heart weren't helping.

_You're not choking._

_You're not choking._

_You're not choking._

I could feel better than this. _Is_ it getting better? I was scared to stop breathing from my mouth. I waited for it to get better. I drew more mouthfuls of air.

After a while, I felt less disoriented. Less panicked. It took me another minute (I think) to realise that I was lying on my back. My fingers ruffled the sheets beneath. Too many waves and small hills in the fabric. I was in bed. I pushed myself from the bed. It wasn't as dark as it seemed. I sat up to recheck if I really was in bed. It could be one of those vivid dreams. No, vivid _nightmares_. I shuddered at the thought. I looked around. The soft light from the window helped a little. Faint but familiar outlines of my bedroom became visible. But I had to confirm this as well. I need light. The flashlight under the pillow, I remembered. I turned around to look for it, fumbling through the layers of bed sheets and comforters. _Where did it go ? _I threw the pillow off the bed and raked my hands over the sheets once more. I was on my knees now, looking for my flashlight. A little shift of movement and a wince of pain shot through my knee. I found the flashlight. After a few seconds, a yellow beam filled the room with light. Awkward shadows cast across the walls of my room. A familiar rickety desk and chair, a familiar wallpaper that was peeling off, a familiar disarray of old books in the wall shelf on the left, a familiar closet with its doors left ajar on the right, a familiar window tightly shut… All of it was familiar… but not familiar enough. It wasn't a vivid nightmare. I definitely had one tonight, I thought. Though I couldn't recall it. _Good. _An insane bout of post-nightmare panic was enough of an evidence. I looked around the room once more. Assured, I pushed myself from the bed. I needed a glass of water. And a Tylenol. My head felt heavy and ached. My throat was dry as bone. Armed with my flashlight, I ventured out of my bedroom. I didn't bother with my slippers even though the floor was cold. My toes curled as I refused to touch the soles of my feet to the ground. With little success. _Water, I need water_.

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I had swallowed two Tylenols to ease the niggling headache. I was habitual of experiencing this consequential headache after the post-nightmare panic attacks. This crap was occasional but draining. Initially, it used to happen each night, but not since I had started taking those prescribed medicines. Sleeping pills,but prescribed. I thought of the meeting with Irina that I had today.

'_Bella, please don't deny yourself something this __**crucial**__…'_

Her words could never explain what she obviously saw in my… situation. I was in denial. Of something that _was crucial_ to my existence, so to speak. I shook my head furiously. I cannot think about it. I shouldn't think about it…

_Fuck, Bella! Get used to it already!_

I stared at the alarm clock on the fridge. 2:48 am, it said. I felt the drug kick in. I had a fair batch of fruit cakes to prepare tomorrow. I needed sleep. I dragged my feet back into the bedroom. My flashlight was still casting awkward flickers across the floor and walls of my dark bedroom as it hung from my wrist with the worn string on its handle.

I hadn't switched it off.

I slumped on my bed and eased myself on the pillows. As much as my state of drowsiness would allow. Some part of my brain was afraid to experience another post nightmare panic attack. Another part was profusely grateful that the nightmare was forgotten. And a major part was looking for reassurance. For _a little _comfort. My hands had a mind of their own as they rummaged the little drawer in the nightstand. The awkward flicker of flashlight not helping the matters much with visibility. But I found it. Like always. I clutched it tightly in my fist before placing it against my heart.

And I slept. I didn't know how soon, but I did.

Feeling _a little_ comforted.

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**A/N-** My first attempt at writing a fan fiction. Give it a try and share your views. =)

_Plagiarism is a crime. You don't want to be a criminal, do you?_


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